Cameron's shoulders strain against his black T-shirt with each compression. Sweat beads on his forehead, but he doesn't stop even though poor Salty looks half-dead.
Posey stands nearby, clutching Edison's collar, her eyes wide. Ambulance sirens wail in the distance, yet Cameron keeps working.
When the EMTs arrive and finally wave Cameron away, he staggers back, chest heaving. His shirt is soaked with sweat, his dark hair disheveled. He looks like he just fought death and won.
I watch as he scoops Posey into his arms, holding her close as they watch the ambulance pull away.
When Cameron and Posey walk back inside with their dog following, every eye in the cafe is on them. As they settle back into their booth, I see Cameron's face flushed, adrenaline still coursing through him.
His eyes find mine across the room. I walk over to congratulate him.
"You're a hero," I say, my voice coming out breathier than intended. "That was incredible."
Cameron shrugs, still catching his breath. "It's been a long time since I had the occasion to use that skill, but it came back."
Posey tugs on Cameron's sleeve. "Is that man going to the hospital? Can we visit him? Can we make sure he's okay?"
"We'll see."
My eyes meet Cameron’s. I wait to see if now that he's found me again, he'll ask for my number.
But no. Not yet, at least. It's all light banter as I bring their meal and refill coffee.
Later, when they've finished their brunch and I bring their check, Cameron pulls out a worn leather wallet and extracts cash.Cash?I think to myself.And why would a billionaire rockstar have such an old, cracked wallet?
He must have seen the surprised expression on my face, because he looks up at me with a teasing grin. "You accept cash here, right?" he says, laying out the money.
"Yes. Of course."
Cameron stands, and suddenly he's close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with the faint scent of sweat from his heroics. His dark eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes my knees weak.
"We'll be back soon."
CHAPTER 10
TARA
Later that day, I wait in the parking lot of the Patriot Hotel for Chloe to arrive. It’s a beautiful summer twilight. My new friend had texted she'd be late to pick me up for the party, but it's been ten minutes already.
My black dress feels too formal now, even though it's basically just a knee-length T-shirt.
Chloe said it would be casual, but I didn't press her for "how casual."What if everyone else is wearing jeans?
Headlights sweep across the lot as a Range Rover pulls up. Chloe waves through the windshield. I walk toward the car.
When I get in, I see she's nailed the right look. She's wearing jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a gold necklace sparkling at her throat. An elegant look that appears effortless.
"Sorry!" she says as I climb in. "Last-minute crisis with the twins. A nanny's life. Always on call."
"That's okay." I'm glad my café job has regular hours.
"So what kind of place is this?" I ask as she navigates the dark island roads.
"It's a little club of sorts we summer workers created. Nothing fancy. A DJ. A dance floor. Mostly outdoors. We just need somewhere to decompress without our employers watching."
Ten minutes later, we're there. Music thumps ahead through the trees. Animated voices drift through the salt air. The party sprawls across a clearing in the pines.
String lights illuminate it, strung between branches. At least fifty people mill around a makeshift bar and dance area.
